Someday
by Jessica237
Summary: EC. Resting his forehead on the cool white sheets, Eric plunged his shattering heart once more into desperate, whispered prayers for that miracle, the one Calleigh had somehow known he would need someday. Possible spoilers for episode 7x14.


**Title: **Someday**  
By:** Jessica**  
Pairing:** Eric/Calleigh**  
Rating:** T**  
Timeline:** Based on the promo for 7x14. Contains possible spoilers for 7x14 as well as 5x15.  
**Summary:** Resting his forehead on the cool white sheets, Eric plunged his shattering heart once more into desperate, whispered prayers for that miracle, the one Calleigh had somehow known he would need someday.

**A/N: **A good part of this was written before I ever saw the extended promo for 7x14, and even though it's vastly different yet somewhat the same, lol, I had enough written that I felt I should at least finish it, even though for once I am actually happier with what the actual writers have come up with...well, as 22 hours prior to the actual episode, that is. Anyway, somebody (or multiple somebodies) at TalkCSI mentioned something about the cross that Calleigh had placed in Eric's hand in Man Down. I don't remember who it was, but whoever said it, consider yourself thanked for reviving my quickly dying inspiration. :)

* * *

The flickering lights of the locker room were not the most reliable sources of illumination in the crime lab. They constantly seemed to be on their final moments of life, and yet, somehow, they managed to keep on shining. It seemed the locker room had been the one part of the lab that had escaped the renovations from the federal grant that had tagged along with the arrival of Natalia, and yet, it had been the one part of the lab that could've used an upgrade the most.

But even the dimmest of lights could sometimes offer the brightest moments of clarity; even the softest light, if caught just the right way, can make a trinket shimmer as though in the sunlight.

And that was exactly what brightened the dark day with which Eric Delko was so thankful to be done. A killer had walked because of a mistake he had made; a mistake he _knew_ he wouldn't have made if he hadn't pushed himself back into work so quickly. It was a mistake he hadn't even made as a rookie – couldn't think of anybody who actually had – and it had eaten at him, leaving him nauseous and aching and wanting nothing more than to go home and collapse into bed.

And then, just as he'd been about to close his locker and make his way home to do exactly that, the tiniest flicker of light had caught his eye. The dying lights overhead had reflected off of something in his locker, just enough to illuminate that object for less than a second, but that was all Eric's eyes needed.

Intrigued, Eric found himself reaching inside once more, his fingers seeking out that mysterious object, expecting perhaps a quarter, a dime, perhaps something useless like an old watch battery – _that_ would be his luck, Eric realized with a bitter chuckle. But as soon as his fingers brushed against it, Eric knew exactly what it was.

He would recognize the feel of that chain anywhere, but even more identifiable was the small adornment attached to it. As he slowly brought it out of his dark locker and into the light, Eric's breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked upon the small cross that hung from the chain. It had been nearly three months since he'd awoken to find it pressed tightly into the palm of his hand, and even though his memory of those waking moments remained fuzzy, this memory was _crystal_ clear. Even then, before he'd opened his eyes, he'd instinctively known who had placed it in his hand.

And now, once more he closed his fingers around the jewelry, feeling the warm metal against the palm of his hand. He hadn't planned on keeping it, but selfishly, Eric couldn't help but enjoy the comfort it always seemed to bring him, from the moment he'd awoken with it in his hand, through the darkest of days and up to this point right now.

Breaking him away from his thoughts was the sound of the door opening, ushering in the object of his deep reverie, and as she entered, Eric found himself once more amazed at how elegant, how perfect she always seemed to look even after the worst days. It would be corny to say out loud, and therefore Eric wouldn't, but Calleigh really was the one ray of sunshine on his darkest days.

Clearing his throat, he offered her a smile, suddenly feeling as though the day wasn't so terrible after all. "Hey, Cal."

"Hey, Eric," she greeted, the clack of her heels echoing softly on the tile below as she gracefully made her way to her locker. "You headed out?"

She smiled at him, that smile that always had Eric's heart skipping beat or two. How was it possible that she had no idea what she did to him, what she'd _always_ done to him. With a single smile she could stop his heart; with a simple touch she could steal his breath, leaving him dizzy, utterly dazed.

Eric took in a deep breath, hoping to break out of his daze, but instead he only brought to his senses the scent of her sweet perfume – he couldn't even place what it was or what he even liked about it; all he knew was that it was so uniquely Calleigh and never would it be the same on anyone else.

Licking his lips in an attempt to moisten them, Eric gave a low chuckle, resisting the urge to shake his head at himself. "Uh, yeah," he replied, quietly closing his locker. The cool metal soothed his suddenly sweaty hands, offering him a little more peace, a little more comfort, even though to return something that had been hers to begin with, he really shouldn't need either.

But this wasn't just _something_ that belonged to her. No matter how he looked at it, that small cross held significant meaning for him, and if he were bold enough, he'd believe that it meant just that much to her as well. Making his decision, Eric let out a breath and approached her, waiting for her to meet his eyes before he spoke. He nodded his head toward his closed hand, holding it out to her. "I think I have something of yours," he murmured almost sheepishly. Intrigued, Calleigh tilted her head, her emerald eyes shining with curiosity, a sight that never failed to bring a smile to Eric's lips. "I, uh, meant to give this back to you a long time ago," he said quietly, gently lowering the chain into her outstretched hand.

And then, Eric needed not to wonder any longer.

She gazed down at the small cross, and Eric knew immediately that it held a deeper meaning to her as well. Her eyes grew wistful, and Eric couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking about. Emotions flitted through her eyes and over her expression, and Eric could almost see just what she was seeing in her mind's eye.

His heart ached for her – it was bad enough that he had to relive his own shooting, his own recovery, but at least he couldn't remember the days in the hospital. The days where no one could be sure whether or not he would wake up; the days no one could be sure whether or not he would ever be the same again. But Calleigh…she had been right there for a great majority of the time.

If there was one thing he'd learned in the hospital, it was that the gossip between the nurses was almost exactly like that between the criminalists in the lab. More than once he'd lain there, eyes closed, listening to hushed whispers about _the gorgeous blonde who won't leave his bedside._

It made him smile, slightly, until he realized that Calleigh had lived it. And likely, she remembered every excruciating moment of it.

Her face had paled slightly, confirming his suspicions. But just before he could apologize for bringing up bad memories, Calleigh spoke, her voice a quiet, awed murmur as she turned the cross within her hands. "I'd wondered if you'd kept it…"

Eric nodded slowly, offering a smile as he took a step back. "I, uh, thought it was about time that you got it back," he explained, retrieving his keys and his cell from the bench. Calleigh nodded, nibbling anxiously at her lip as her eyes remained downward, though whether to hide the sudden burst of emotion, or whether she was just that interested in studying every contour of that cross, Eric didn't know. He had a fairly good idea which one, though.

Clearing his throat once more, Eric took another step toward the door. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then," he said, feeling her silence become a bit too emotional, a bit too stifling. She murmured a quiet response, and with a sigh, Eric turned, his hand on the doorknob before she broke her silence.

"Hey, Eric?" she called softly, and finally did she lift her emotion-filled eyes to him.

For a moment, there was silence, though soon it was filled once more with the steady clack of her heels as she made her way toward him. Eric watched in puzzlement, his hand falling from the door as she reached out for him, loosely catching his fingers with hers.

And the spark that raced through his body as their hands touched was undeniable – and from the look in her eyes, Eric knew for a fact that Calleigh felt it too. She bit at her lip, a slight tint flowing to her cheeks – or maybe Eric had imagined that, for he could never be completely sure of what he saw in that small room with the dimmest of lights.

But what Eric knew _wasn't_ just a trick of the lights was the sheepish smile that touched Calleigh's lips. Silently, she cradled his hand in hers, glancing up to meet his eyes briefly before turning her eyes back to his hand. With a touch as gentle as the soft breeze outside, Calleigh pressed the cross back into his palm, her fingers surprisingly steady. And just like she had done so long ago at his bedside, she slowly coaxed his fingers closed around the cool metal, lifting her eyes to meet his intense gaze only once her tiny hands both enveloped his closed hand. "You should keep it," she requested softly, offering a light smile.

She released his hand, and immediately Eric missed the warmth her touch had provided. Glancing downward, he opened his hand, watching as the cross shimmered in the halflight. "Calleigh…"

Calleigh smiled then, a full, bright smile that left Eric's heart skipping much more than just a single beat. "I mean it, Eric," she insisted. Breathing in deeply, Calleigh took a step back, feeling the closeness between them begin to grow unbearable – not so unbearable that she needed to get _away_, but so unbearable that she needed to be _closer_ to him, something she wasn't quite sure she was ready for. "You never know - you may need a miracle of your own someday."

--

White. So much sterile, blank, empty _whiteness._

Tubes and wires; monitors and displays. Machines that grounded a life that had nearly escaped the bounds of earth.

It was all so _frighteningly_ familiar to Eric. It felt almost like déjà vu – it was the same, but at the same time, all was completely reversed. He'd been here before…and yet, he hadn't.

Not on this side, at least.

This time, he was the one on the outside of the confines of those stiff, hospital bedsheets. This time, he was the one who kept a constant bedside vigil; he was the one lifting up endless prayers, desperate pleas.

This time, he was the one who could do little more than sit helplessly by, watching as the one he loved clung to life by merely a thread. He'd never, ever seen Calleigh Duquesne look so fragile, so breakable, and it scared him. Losing her scared him more than he'd ever like to admit, especially given the way he had left things between them.

He'd left her confused.

She'd given him the opening he'd needed, and he'd chickened out, influenced by the negative seed of doubt her words had planted in his mind.

And he'd never broached the subject again.

Reaching out to her, Eric tenderly brushed a knuckle against her pale cheek, wishing more than anything to see the lively flush fill her face instead. He needed her eyes to open; he needed to see those beautiful, sparkling emeralds. He needed to know he would see them _again_. Because right now…

_No._

Adamantly, Eric shook his head, refusing to allow himself to think that. "You're going to get through this," he whispered, rising from his seat but for a moment. He felt unsteady on his feet, but he kept from swaying just long enough to press the gentlest, sweetest of kisses against her forehead. "I _need_ you to get through this," he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin as he spoke. Tenderly, he stroked her soft locks, gently brushing them away from her face before once more taking the seat he would not leave until he saw her eyes, her smile again.

But just before he sat completely, Eric reached into his pocket, slowly and reverently pulling out the cross she'd insisted he keep. With the ghost of a half-smile, he turned the cross within his hands, his thumb so carefully tracing out its shape. "You know," he whispered, lifting his eyes back to the woman in the bed before him, "I meant what I said all those months ago." The tiniest tremble colored his voice, though Eric made no move to conceal it as he continued. "I don't know what I would do without you. You mean so much to me, and – and I…" Swallowing the lump in his throat, Eric trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut against the burning moisture that pooled there. "I – I _can't_ lose you…"

Through his blurred vision, Eric's gaze landed on Calleigh's tiny, pale hand, resting supinely atop the stiff white of the hospital blanket that covered her fragile body. His own hand shaking, Eric reached out to her, drawing in a gasp at the coolness in her fingers. It was almost as though she were already gone…

The thought was a knife to his heart, and Eric resolutely shoved it away. He couldn't afford to think like that, not now. Fighting with his emotions, he gently slipped his hand beneath hers, cradling it as he lifted it from the bed. The cross in his other hand shimmered in the filtered sunlight, and Eric couldn't help but reverently hold his breath, as though breathing in would make him lose his grip on one of them – the cross in his left hand, or Calleigh's hand in his right.

And right now, it seemed he could let go of neither until they were placed safely together.

With a small, penitent smile, Eric glanced quickly to her face once more. "You – you told me to keep this," he whispered, looking back to the cross. "You told me that I might need a miracle of my own, someday." With that, he lifted the cross by the chain, watching as the light reflected from it momentarily before slowly, reverently lowering it into Calleigh's motionless hand, unknowingly just the same as she had placed it in his nearly two years previously.

With a shaky sigh, Eric glanced upward with reddened eyes, in his mind a silent prayer to the Lord above. "This has to be _someday_," he whispered, feeling absolutely no shame as the first tear overflowed from his moist eyes. He made no move to wipe it from his cheek – couldn't bare to spend the energy when that energy might do something, _anything_ for Calleigh. "Wake up for me. _Please._"

Gently, Eric closed Calleigh's fingers around the cross, wanting her to feel it just as he had; _needing_ her to know that he was there for her – that he would _always_ be there for her. He wasn't going anywhere; not from this hospital room, not from her life. As long as she would let him, he was there to stay.

He could only hope and pray that she knew that.

The tremors in Eric's hands were increasing more and more by the second, but still he refused to release her hand just yet. His heart felt as though it were ripping into several pieces, miniscule pieces that only Calleigh could ever repair. But for that, Eric knew she had to wake up. For the heartache to end, Eric knew he would have to look deep into her eyes, knowing that the woman he'd fallen in love with _so_ long ago was still there with him.

"You fight for me," he pled softly, his voice cracking with the sound of unshed tears. Lifting her tiny hand to his lips, Eric softly pressed a kiss to each of her knuckles, letting his lips linger against her skin for as long as possible. "You _fight_ this, baby."

Desperately he searched her face for any indication that Calleigh had heard him; that she even knew that he was there.

But there was none. Nothing. No subtle twitches, no slight movement. Her face remained impassive, as expressionless as it had been when he'd first entered the room.

Enveloping her tiny hand in both of his, he closed his burning eyes, lowering his head once more. Resting his forehead on the cool white sheets, Eric plunged his shattering heart once more into desperate, whispered prayers for that miracle, the one Calleigh had somehow known he would need someday.

Eric could only hope that today would be that someday.

He _couldn't_ lose her.


End file.
